


Drabbles

by softgrungeprophet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Awkward Flirting, Boys Kissing, Comforting Sam, Couch Cuddles, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drabble Collection, Established Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Established Relationship, Feelings, Fluff, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Power Outage, Thanksgiving, Tumblr Prompt, Winter, sabrielation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2017-12-31 19:52:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softgrungeprophet/pseuds/softgrungeprophet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Various drabbles as requested by people on the Tumbles and stuff<br/>You can request here or there  if ya want but there's no guarantee I'll write it<br/>Tumblr tag: <a href="http://softgrungeprophet.tumblr.com/tagged/nadia%20does%20drabbles">here.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Samifer fluff: Ex-firefighter couch snuggles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Samifer fluff for Zombikki:  
> Human AU where Lucifer used to be a firefighter and Sam is probably a lawyer or something. :3 Because trying to shove fluff into some canon moment is too much thinking for me and I specialize in dumb AUs I hope you don't mind (I know some people don't like AU stuff)

"C'mere, Sam." Lucifer held one arm out. His jacket pulled slightly away from his wrist, and the ring on his finger glinted. Sam glanced over at him, frowning. Lucifer's mouth turned up in a soft, but mocking, smile. He beckoned with one crooked finger.

Sam sighed but obliged. He rolled his eyes and slid onto the couch beside Lucifer, and leaned against the other man. Lucifer's arm wrapped around his waist and he turned his head to press a kiss into Sam's hair. Sam let his eyes drift closed. He ignored the cold tap of Lucifer's wedding ring on his arm—it was for show, so people would neither assume him to be a "poor ugly loner," but also so strangers wouldn't hit on him.

Of course, no one really thought he was ugly.

Lucifer was just self-conscious about the burn scars across his forehead and cheeks and knuckles. Sam secretly thought they made Lucifer who he was, and perhaps they weren't pretty but they didn't make him as hideous as he seemed to think.

Sam said nothing, though. Just squirmed to lean more comfortably against the ex-fireman's side. He twined their fingers together—marveled at the fact that though their hands almost matched perfectly in size, Lucifer's fingers had much rougher skin and were stouter than Sam's own. Interesting how people varied.

Lucifer kissed his forehead. "If you think any harder I'll be able to _hear_ you." His lips wandered down to Sam's cheek. "Stop focusing so much."

With a small huff of laughter, Sam stilled his thoughts as best he could, and leaned his head on Lucifer's shoulder, glancing to the TV where a documentary on birds played with low volume.

Lucifer hummed his approval.

They sat together listening to David Attenborough describe bower birds until Sam fell asleep, half on Lucifer's lap. Lucifer turned the television off. He slid down to lay comfortably (ish) with his head propped against the arm of the couch and Sam curled against him. The couch wasn't quite wide enough for them both to recline like that, but it worked. He closed his eyes and stroked Sam's hair—still rather disbelieving that Sam would tolerate someone such as himself—until the world dimmed around him and faded away into sleep.

He dreamed of picnics in the sun.


	2. Sevin fluff: Thanksgiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sevin fluff for Zombikki:  
> I've never written any sevin before so uh........................... bear with me? It's not...very shippy... to be honest oops. Also somehow this turned into a Thanksgiving fic so um?? (What can I say I guess I'm super eager for the holiday to get here so I can gorge myself on rolls)

Kevin ground the heels of his palms against his shut eyes with a grumble. The tablet swam before his stare and he squinted at the warping words. The Enochian refused to come together in his brain. Only flickered against stone like sigils made of water.

 A knock came at his bedroom door, and he flinched. "Uh..." He barely made a sound. Cleared his throat. "Who is it?"

"It's me." Sam pushed the door open, hands occupied with two plates piled high with mashed potatoes, stuffing, turkey. Even some rolls. He shut the door behind him with one socked foot. "You should take a break, Kevin." He smiled. "It's Thanksgiving."

Kevin blinked uncomprehendingly. "What?"

"Thanksgiving." Sam's smile widened to a grin, with dimples and scrunched up eyes. "You know, that special holiday when you eat until you can't anymore?" He set one plate on Kevin's desk and sat down nearby on Kevin's bed—there was only one chair in Kevin's room and it was currently occupied by his butt.

Kevin rubbed his eyes again. "Um... Thanks." He blinked down at his desk before shoving the tablet away and tugging his little miniature feast closer. It steamed, and smelled beyond amazing. He picked at the turkey with his fork, tearing off a bit to shove into his mouth. (Sure, he used to be vegetarian, but... Well. It was good.) "Did uh—Did Dean...?"

"Yep." Sam mumbled around a mouthful of stuffing. "Baked an entire friggin' turkey and enlisted me and Cas to help him make everything else. We were gonna get you out to help but you were passed out on that tablet so we let you sleep." He grinned again and shoved half a roll into his mouth, humming cheerfully. Kevin watched him eat with a soft frown.

He shook himself and returned his attentions to the plate in front of him. "Thanks, I guess."

"No problem, dude."

They fell into silence while they ate, accompanied by the sound of the clock ticking on the wall and silverware clinking against porcelain.

When Kevin had cleared his plate he cleared his throat. Sam looked over at him.

"Thanks again."

Sam laughed, quietly, as he stood. "Seriously, it's fine." He held his hand out for Kevin's plate. "You need to relax more often." As if it were an afterthought, he leaned down and wrapped one arm around Kevin's shoulders, brief and tight. He grinned down at him again, and left.

Kevin sat in his chair rather dazed.

He smiled.


	3. Value Me (Sam x Gabriel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam asks Gabriel to tell him about how he feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from carolingcastiel: value me! (and if you do gabriel as the one talking about his feelings, him having a really hard time with it because he's not used to pouring his feelings out would be great omg)  
> So basically this is some kind of AU wherein Gabriel has been resurrected or something? He's an Archangel, but it's set in the whole 2013 time where TFW live in the MoL HQ.

"Don't make me do this."

"What?" Sam laughed, and his teeth flashed white in the buzzing glow of the street lamps. "It's just a question."

Gabriel shook his head. "No." He raised his hand, with his index finger outstretched. Raised his eyebrows. "It's a freakishly touchy-feely question, and I don't wanna answer it." He stopped at the corner of the sidewalk and whirled on his feet to face Sam, planting his hands on his hips.

"Gabriel—"

"No. Hells no, Sam." He grinned but something in his eyes sent off signals—the kind that would stop a predator in its tracks and spook a deer in a split second. "You can't make me."

Sam gave as good as he got, with his expression. Raised eyebrows, pursed lips. Classic bitchface. "All I asked was how you feel about me." He crossed his arms. "It's not that hard to answer." His smile turned playful and he punched the button for the crosswalk. It changed almost immediately, so he strode across the empty road. "How do you feel about me? Are you too chicken to answer?"

Gabriel rushed after him. "Screw you!" He fell into step with Sam. "I'm not a chicken! I just don't wanna talk about feelings! I'm not some mushy-hearted angst-ridden schmuck like your big brother!" He jabbed Sam's arm. "It's not like I wanna stare into your eyes all day like those two jackasses you call family."

Letting out a scoff, Sam shoved Gabriel away. "Shut up, asshole." His grin widened. "I'm curious how you feel, okay! Feelings! They're what people have!"

"Oh you wanna know how I feel? I feel like you're a little shithead!" Gabriel tried to kick out at Sam but he missed by a few inches and stumbled—of course, if he had really wanted to kick Sam he wouldn’t have missed. But he preferred pretending to be a little bit human.

"Now we're getting somewhere." Sam reached out to pull Gabriel into a headlock. Gabriel let himself be dragged along for a few feet before squirming free and shoving his thumbs into his pockets. He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment before muttering, "You really wanna know?" He kept his eyes trained on the crumbling sidewalk as he took over-large steps in the poorly-lit night.

Sam nodded. "I wanna know."

"Man, I hate you."

Sam smirked. "Oh, is that how it is? Your feelings are general hatred?" He stuck his hands in his jacket pockets. The air was a little chilly.

Gabriel licked his lips and craned his head back to look up at what few stars were visible through the thin clouds and light pollution. "Nah." He snorted. "Nah, I don't hate you. Not even close." He shrugged. "I dunno, Sam. It's hard to put into words. There are a lot of emotions in the world and I've certainly been around the block, but trying to describe how one person makes you feel can be hard." He chuckled to himself, scraping his heels on the concrete. "Even someone as simple as yourself."

"Fuck you." Sam elbowed him. "I'm complicated. Like a dictionary."

Gabriel let out a guffaw. "A dic—Sam, no." He turned his grin to his feet once more, and it softened.

"I don't know, Sam."

He breathed out loud and gusty, chewed on his lip, and shut his eyes as he walked. "I like you—I mean, you're fun to be around. Dean is fun to prod, sure, but you're... interesting? You share my sense of humor." He paused. "Well, _sometimes_ you share my sense of humor. Not always. Since I'm kind of an asshole and you're kind of not."

Sam kept quiet. He didn't want Gabriel to stop, now that he'd finally got going.

"I—I dunno, Sam. Really."

"So, keep thinking."

A small chuckle—nervous—dropped from Gabriel's mouth. "Fine," he said. "Fine. Okay. I—I think you're funny. Not like... Cosby funny or whatever else. Like... You are so damn sarcastic and half the time I think most of the world misses it completely, but goddamn. Those mooks don't know what they're missin' out on when your jokes fly over their heads." He snickered to himself.

Gentled again.

"How I feel about you is that..." He pushed his hand back through his hair, and it stuck up wild and toffee-colored in the light of the streetlamps. "I feel like you're a better man than I have ever been—" He cut Sam off, when it seemed like he wanted to interrupt. "No, Sam. It's true. I'm a massive tool. Sure I deal justice, but I also kill people and I'm rude to everyone and... You're... not. You're kind and merciful and I don't know how many times you could have killed me but didn't. I mean, I may be a goddamn chimerical beast but I know that you two are deadly and I know you could have done me in in an instant." He sighed. "But you didn't. Even after... after Florida."

He raised his eyes back to the sky. They'd passed the more dense part of the city and had gotten out onto a more rural area, so the stars peppered the dark more thickly. The highway was cracked on the edges. The paint peeled.

Gabriel scratched the back of his neck.

Sam waited.

Eventually, Gabriel spoke again. "Not to be cliché, but... you make me happy. You know?" He rubbed his face with both hands palm-flat against his skin. "You give me hope. You're amazing. You've been through all this shit, and you still show understanding and kindness. It's a wonder you can even stand the presence of another living being but here you are, walking along with me of all people." He briefly glanced at Sam, but not long enough for the taller man to get a read on his emotions.

"You also make me feel kind of small—" He cut himself off with a laugh. "Not literally. I mean, sure my vessel is nearly a foot shorter than yours but I'm still bigger'n you. But you make me feel all little and... _normal_. I like that. You're just so damn earnest."

Sam watched him without a word. Hunched his shoulders against the slight rising breeze and kept walking at a steady pace.

Gabriel kept up with him easily.

"I just—" He closed his eyes with a little gust of breath. "Crap. Sam, I just really care about you, okay?" He spread his arms and raised his eyebrows. "There, I said it! I told you my feelings. I like you, I care about you, I'm secretly a giant sap!"

Sam smiled. "You're a dork."

Gabriel glared at him but it held no heat. "I'll shank you."

"No you won't." Sam grabbed at Gabriel. Pulled him in against his side with one arm draped loosely about his shoulders. "You would never hurt me, because you _care_ too much." He grinned down at Gabriel with dimples and windswept hair and bright eyes, and adopted a more teasing tone. "You _like_ me."

"The hell's that supposed to mean?!" Gabriel wrinkled his nose. "What am I, a ten-year old girl?"

"Yes."

Gabriel let out a disbelieving snort. "You're a dick."

Sam only jostled him as they walked, and his arm slipped a little lower so his fingers grasped at Gabriel's elbow. He turned his face into the wind.

Gabriel tried as discreetly as possible to inch closer to Sam. Sam noticed, of course, and dropped his hand to Gabriel's waist. When he looked down, the other man was scowling at his feet and pink in the face. Sam smirked. Gabriel jabbed him with his elbow but leaned against him, so his cheek bumped Sam's shoulder.

"I hate you."

Sam smiled. "You love me."

Gabriel scoffed and muttered, "No, you're too much of a jerkwad to love." He licked his lips. "But maybe I _like_ you a lot more than most other people."

"Aww, I'm so flattered." Sam kissed the top of Gabriel's head—Gabriel swatted at him, irritated and still blushing.

Sam laughed.

They kept walking with Sam's arm wrapped around Gabriel's waist the entire way back to the bunker.


	4. Quiet me (Sam x Gabriel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quiet me: For christmasinpurgatory: one character trying to calm another down [be it from crying, from lashing out, feel free to specify.]
> 
> AU where Gabriel is resurrected when the angels fall. Powerless.

"Gabriel! You need to calm down!" Sam grasped at Gabriel's shoulders, pressing down on him, holding him still—it was so much easier to do than he expected. He still expected Gabriel to be strong enough to resist him with ease but instead the ex-Archangel slouched where he stood and let himself be maneuvered to a chair at the table, with clenched fists and trembling knees and a fierce glare.

A plate, cracked into several large pieces with a few smaller shards scattered around it, was on the floor. The cup beside it had only sustained minimal damage—the handle had snapped off. Coffee puddled around the mess, and a piece of blackened toast sat soaking it up. The cast iron frying pan, full of burnt eggs, sat in the trash.

Sam ignored it all in favor of pulling up a stool and settling across from Gabriel.

Gabriel wouldn't meet his eyes.

"What's wrong?" Sam reached out and settled his hand on Gabriel's knee, gentle. He moved slowly.

Gabriel scrubbed at his face—he wasn't crying, because he refused to cry, but his eyes still shone incriminatingly. He scowled. Shifted in his seat. Finally grumbled, "I was tryin' to make you breakfast." He crossed his arms and waited for the inevitable laughter.

Sam didn't laugh.

"You didn't have to do that, Gabriel." Sam squeezed his knee. "Dean already does most of the cooking. You could have just let him make everyone breakfast."

Gabriel sighed. "No, Sam, that's not it!" He ran his hand back through his hair in agitation. "I don't wanna let Dean do all the cooking because I wanted to make something for you, because you always do stuff for me!" His voice began to get louder. "But I just fuck everything up! Like I fuck everything up!"

"Hey, Gabriel." Sam moved closer, out of his stool, so he could hook a finger under Gabriel's chin. He tilted his head back to meet his eyes. "It's okay." He slipped his hand around. Rested it lightly against the curve of Gabriel's neck just over his collar, and curled his fingers loosely. "We all make mistakes, okay?"

Shaking his head, Gabriel looked down at his lap. "Not like this, though. I screw everything up." Sam's hand was hot against his skin but he ignored it as he continued to speak. "I can barely shave, and I can't cook and I can never get the shower to work right, and I can't make coffee and sugar hurts my teeth and—How do you people do this every day?" He shoved his face into his hands. "It's all eating, shitting, sleeping and I'm always too cold or too hot and I always have to piss and I can't just do things like I used to!" He snapped his fingers. "It's broken. I'm broken."

"You're not broken."

"I _am_ , Sam! You don't know what this is like!" Gabriel wrung his hands, and bit the inside of his mouth. "How do you people do it?! How did Cas do this?"

Sam grabbed Gabriel by the wrists and tugged him to his feet. Pulled him into his arms, so his face pressed against Sam's chest. He cradled him, essentially. And Gabriel didn't step away, though he felt somewhat humiliated and childish—but Sam was warm, and his hold was strong and comforting.

Gabriel let himself heave out a breath, weighed down with his frustrations and disappointment. "I hate this," he whispered. "Being human is a lot harder than it looks."

"It's okay, Gabriel." Sam smiled. "I think you're doing pretty good."

"Thanks."

Sam tightened his arms around Gabriel.


	5. Amuse me (sam x gabriel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amuse me -Sabriel (it seemed appropriate for them :-P): a funny drabble about one character trying to cheer another up. Established relationship. This ended up more fluffy than funny OOPS I'm too much of a sap.

Sam was, to put it simply, in an awful mood.

He was having what was a known as a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day.

When the door to the motel room slammed open, he knew it would only get more terrible.

Gabriel shut the door with his foot and snapped his fingers, so the room slowly began to morph into something classier and also more obnoxious. Wood floors, and curtains of crimson-colored velvet, and red bedspreads with zebra-print pillows, and black walls with white stars painted on the ceiling.

In short, it was revolting, and Sam hated it.

He slammed his laptop shut hard enough to be make Gabriel wince—shoved the computer away and stood, to move to a bed. He threw himself face down into the sheets. They may have been obnoxiously colored but they were extremely soft and smelled a little like peaches and honey. So Sam couldn't bring himself to complain about the red. He took a deep breath and let it out angrily.

Gabriel inched closer. "Sam, you okay?" He plopped down onto his knees next to Sam and leaned over. "You seem mad."

Sam let out a short, bitter bark of laughter, and said nothing.

"Aw, c'mon." Gabriel poked at him. "What's up, kiddo? You're usually not _this_ prickly." He crawled forward until he could sprawl across Sam, and poked him in the ear. "Are you turning into a saguaro?"

Sam tried to shrug him off, but Gabriel would not let himself be removed so easily.

The bed creaked, but Gabriel held fast like a burr, folding his hands across Sam's broad back and resting his chin on them. "So, spill." He kicked his legs into the air. "Or I _will_ lay on top of you 'til the cows come home—and FYI, the cows ain't comin' home."

Sam just grumbled at him and gave up trying to dislodge him.

"Come on, baby." Gabriel reached up and ruffled Sam's hair. "Tell me why you're angry."

Sam snorted. "Don't call me that," he mumbled. Turned his head to speak a little clearer. "And I don't have to tell you why I'm angry. Maybe I'm just in a bad mood!"

Gabriel squirmed on top of Sam, scooting up, and wrapped his arms around Sam's neck in a strange pseudo-hug. He spoke low—"Sam, I want to help you feel better." He smiled. "Not that there's anything wrong with some good ol' fashioned anger every once in a while, but I know from experience that it sure ain't fun. So tell me what's bothering you, so I can help you."

"I don't need your help, Gabriel."

Gabriel sighed. " _Sam_."

"Fine!" Sam shoved his face against the sheets. "Fine, just—Get off me, and I'll complain at you."

Gabriel grinned, rolling off of Sam and onto his back. With a raised eyebrow, he watched Sam haul himself up onto all fours and move to sit with his back against the ridiculous mirrored headboard.

Sam eyed him, expression thunderous.

Gabriel raised his eyebrows.

Sighing, Sam closed his eyes and tilted his head back. "You're annoying, you know that?"

"I know." Gabriel pulled himself up to sit shoulder-to-shoulder with Sam and grinned widely. "So, tell me what's pissing you off so much that you're transforming into that dumb cat meme."

Sam shot him a baffled grimace. "I don't know." He rubbed his forehead and sighed. "I'm just grumpy. Everything seems to be going wrong today—it's just one of those days, you know?" He drew his knees up, resting his arms across them, and shut his eyes again. "Stubbed my toe when I woke up, dropped the shampoo in the shower, ran into a wall, spilled milk on the counter, and now I can't find a single thing about the monster we're after. It's just really getting to me."

"Sounds like a case of the Mondays." Gabriel slunk his arm around Sam's waist, and leaned against him. "Do you need some _snuggles_?" He took on a tone similar to that of someone talking to a baby.

"Shut up!" Sam elbowed him, but he couldn't help but smile a little. "You're such a dick!" He let Gabriel tug him against his side, though, and even let his cheek rest on top of Gabriel's head. Gabriel smelled like chocolate and nectarines, with just a bit of something spicy underneath. Sam took a deep, sighing breath. "I just hate those days when nothing goes right."

Gabriel moved his hand in little circles against Sam's side. "I know, Sam." He tilted his head back and kissed Sam lightly. "But it's okay. It's just a little bit of bad luck."

"Better end soon." Sam frowned.

"It will." Gabriel raised a hand to Sam's face. Ran his thumb over Sam's cheek, and up around to smooth the wrinkles from between his eyebrows. He pulled him down and kissed his forehead. "With me here, nothing can go wrong, and if it does then I can make you feel better. Because I'm awesome like that." He grinned.

"You're an egotistical douchebag is what you are." Sam smiled, just a little bit.

Gabriel shrugged. "That may be true." He smirked and gave Sam a peck on the cheek. "But this awesomely egotistical d-bag made you smile. So I don't care what you think." He wiggled his eyebrows.

Sam rolled his eyes, but he let Gabriel nuzzle against him, and laughed.


	6. Sam x Gabriel: Power Outage

"Shit." Sam flicked the light switch a few times. Nothing happened. He walked across the living room and tried the lamp plugged into the wall. Nothing. The house stood eerily silent, not even the buzz of the refrigerator in the air. Power outage. He glanced out the window, at the thick drifts of snow, covered over with a thin layer of ice. Fat snowflakes drifted from the strangely pink-gray sky. The windows had a sheen of frost crawling over them as well, as the temperature in the house continued to drop.

He tapped the cold glass with one finger.

He decided making a fire might be in his best interest. Arranged the kindling in the grate until he was satisfied and snatched a packet of matches from the mantle, patiently waiting until a bit caught light and eventually began to smolder properly. He shut the mesh screen in front of the fireplace and straightened up.

The sound of creaking filtered through the ceiling from upstairs. A few seconds later, Gabriel peeked into the living room, wrapped around in a fuzzy red blanket, with messy hair and bleary eyes. He blinked at Sam before finally wandering over to his side. Sam hooked an arm around Gabriel's waist to tug him closer.

"It's cold."

Sam snorted. "That's why I started a fire, genius." He grinned down at Gabriel and leaned down, planting a kiss on his forehead and the tip of his nose and his mouth. Gabriel rolled his eyes and smirked against Sam's lips.

"You're extra rude today, youngling." He winked. Draped his arms over Sam's shoulders with the ends of his blanket fisted in each hand. "But I'll forgive you."

Sam raised his eyebrows, moving so he could stand chest-to-chest with Gabriel. "Technically it was a compliment." He bumped their foreheads together. "Just... a very sarcastic one." His smile softened and he kissed Gabriel's jawline.

Gabriel tilted his head to the side to give Sam better access to his neck. He hummed and muttered, "Still rude, buttmunch." He twined his fingers into Sam's hair.

Sam laughed and nipped at his throat. "Shut up."

Gabriel gave Sam's hair a tug, and when Sam drew in a sharp breath through his nose he laughed. He let the blanket slip out of his free hand and pool around their feet, and in the light from the fire he pressed closer to Sam. Sam pretended to glare at him. Gabriel bit his lip with a smirk and a wiggle of his eyebrows, pulling at Sam until he followed him down to sit on the rug in front of the fireplace. One side of Sam's face was shadowed, but warm light from the flames bathed the rest of him, and his eyes practically glowed.

"You look really pretty, Sam."

"What?" Sam pulled a face, and laughed quietly. "You're weird."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "I'm not weird. You're pretty." He shrugged, and lay down with his arms behind his head. Nudged Sam with one bare foot. "You got nice eyes, and dimples and stuff." He beamed up at Sam. "You know? And that cowlick—it's adorable. But for real. Your eyes are all weird and multi-colored and you have a really good smile, Sam." He shrugged, still grinning. "I think you're pretty."

Sam leaned down, until he could prop himself on his elbows above Gabriel. "I still think you're weird." His cheeks were definitely a little pink—whether from the heat of the fire or from embarrassment, it was unclear. "But... thanks, I guess?" He kissed Gabriel. Smiled at him, face close enough that his eyes went a little crossed.

"Shhh," Gabriel pushed Sam's hair back from his face as he brushed their mouths together again. "Shush and accept the fact that you're a _babe_." His eyebrows shot up. "Let me quote Shakespeare—"

"Oh my God, Gabriel, no—"

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?" Gabriel licked his lips and leered up at Sam.

Sam groaned, knowing the next sentence could only be something ridiculous.

And sure enough, Gabriel whispered in his ear, "Hot as fuck."

Sam let out a snort, and dissolved into muffled laughter, with his face buried in Gabriel's neck. Gabriel chuckled and patted Sam's back. "There there, Sam." He squirmed and wrapped his legs around Sam's waist. "I know my poetry is beautiful, but it hardly warrants tears." He let his arms curl around Sam's shoulders as well, and toyed with the slight curls of hair at the nape of Sam's neck.

"Your so-called 'poetry' is awful." Sam rolled his eyes and nipped Gabriel's ear.

Gabriel scoffed. "Everyone's a critic."

Sam just rolled his eyes again and set out to cover Gabriel's skin in kisses, while the fire flickered in the grate and the snow fell outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then they had sex. The end.


	7. Golden: sabrielation day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for sabrielation day 2: "soft and sleepy"

The sun dropped thin rays through the window—sent boxes of light up against the far wall, just above the headboard. Little flecks of dust turned white and gold where they floated in the brightening sunlight, and on the bed, Gabriel squeezed his eyes. He made a soft sound in the back of his throat and rolled onto his side, burying his face in Sam's neck.

Sam flinched at the push of Gabriel's cold nose against his skin, but didn't wake up. Just sighed and shifted.

Birds chirped, just outside. Flapped around. They cast little fluttering shadows through the squares of light on the wall.

Gabriel sighed. He was definitely awake. He didn't want to be awake, though. He wanted to sleep and sleep and sleep, warm and snug against Sam's side. Though... he supposed he could stay warm and snug against Sam's side, just... with his eyes open. He turned his head and blinked against the sunlight—it made their bedroom look soft and inviting. Golden.

He squirmed around a little until he felt more comfortable. Tangled his legs with Sam's and maybe purposefully poked him with his toes a few times. He slung an arm across Sam's ribcage, and rested his head on Sam's chest. Okay, maybe not as comfortable as he'd hoped. But he didn't move, because he liked the sound of Sam's heart thumping against his ear. And the sound of the air entering and leaving his lungs, steady and slow. He was so peaceful and relaxed when he slept.

Sam huffed out a little laugh.

Okay, maybe he was more awake than Gabriel had thought. Gabriel looked up at him, raising his eyebrows.

"You're like an octopus." Sam lifted a hand from where it lay beside his pillow and settled it on Gabriel's head. He twined his fingers through Gabriel's hair and hummed, closing his eyes again. "A very hot octopus."

Gabriel tightened his hold around Sam's middle, and smirked. He practically purred, with the way Sam stroked his hair, and muttered, "By 'hot' you mean 'sexy,' right?"

When Sam laughed, Gabriel grinned and nuzzled against his throat.

"When I said 'hot,' I meant 'your cheek is sticking to my chest.'"

Gabriel cackled.

Sam flicked his ear and rolled onto his side, pushing at Gabriel to follow suit before wrapping his arms around him. Gabriel snuggled closer, and ignored the fact that his nose was squished up against Sam's collarbone. He liked it that way. Totally. Or at least, the way Sam held him made up for the slight discomfort of a smooshed nose.

Outside, the birds continued to sing.


	8. Sam x Gabriel: Extra raisins (Valentine's Day)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valentine's Day silliness. Was prompted with either coffee shop date or puppies but ... I couldn't think of anything so I wrote this instead.

"So, Sam." Gabriel stretched his arms over his head and let one rest along the back of the couch, behind Sam's shoulders. He cracked a crooked grin. "Come here often?" He winked.

Sam rolled his eyes, shutting his book. He leveled a mildly amused look at Gabriel and said, "Gabriel, I live here." He smiled and set his book aside. Leaned over so he could rest his head at an admittedly awkward angle on Gabriel's shoulder. Gabriel laughed and wrapped his arm around Sam, propping his cheek against Sam's soft hair.

He glanced at the clock on top of the dark TV.

"Shit."

Sam frowned and tilted his head back with a questioning noise. "You okay?"

"I was supposed to pick up a cake an hour ago—I mean... I'm fine." Gabriel cleared his throat. "Totally fine. I just have to... go... run an errand..."

"You bought a cake for Valentine's Day."

Gabriel nudged Sam off of him with an exaggerated pout. "It was supposed to be a surprise!" He hopped to his feet and stretched, back cracking. He grimaced. "Romantic, and all that dumb stuff. You know—smooth!" He shook his head. "Destine to fail, I guess."

"Well," Sam plopped lay down, with his knees hooked over one arm of the couch and his head propped against the other. "I'll just pretend to be shocked that you attempted to be romantic."

Gabriel kicked at his dangling hand (gently) as he walked past. Called, over his shoulder, "I'll eat the whole cake all by myself and you won't get any!"

"I don't care—" Sam threw his hand dramatically across his face. "I just want dinner!"

"Dinner can wait."

The door slammed, and Sam could hear Gabriel whistling cheerfully to himself as he walked down the driveway in the dark. Even the sound of his car starting sounded cheerful. Sam rolled off of the couch—nearly fell onto the floor but caught himself, more or less. He wandered into the kitchen. Looked through the cupboards.

Cookies. More cookies. Chocolate chips, carob chips, gummy worms, spice drops, instant mashed potatoes, ramen, cans of alphabet soup. Ah—a box of Triscuits. Edible, moderately "healthy," and unlikely to spoil his dinner. Probably. He began to munch on them as he made his way back to the couch. He settled back to wait for Gabriel's return, and turned on the television.

MythBusters. Yes, good. He could always get behind blowing things up for the sake of knowledge.

Gabriel got back almost an hour later, singing an overly dramatic rendition of "All Shook Up" as he kicked the door open. He fell silent, for a moment, then suddenly slid into the room on socked feet, singing the chorus, with a bubblegum pink cardboard box in one hand and an absolutely massive bouquet of white calla lilies and scarlet yarrow in the other. His candy-cane striped socks flashed as he pranced over to the couch, and Sam snorted. He muted the TV.

"You really went all out."

Gabriel waggled his eyebrows. "You bet, Babycakes." He dropped the flowers into Sam's lap and twirled the cake box in his fingers. "It's even carrot cake." A self-satisfied smirk, as he headed toward the kitchen.

"There better not be any raisins!"

Gabriel just laughed.

Sam picked at the flowers in his lap. They smelled strongly, and he couldn't be sure if it was just because lilies liked to spread their perfume-y stench worse than skunks, or if it was just extremely noticeable because they were literally on top of him. He shrugged and turned the bouquet in his hands. A little gold card fell out.

He held the card up to the light. It glittered a little bit—absolutely unsurprising, considering who'd bought the flowers. Sam rolled his eyes and flipped the card open. It read, in looping red handwriting (definitely not Gabriel's).

Sam snorted. "Did you really pay someone to write, 'You make me melt like chocolate in the sun' on a card?"

"Mmmmaybe." Gabriel popped his head through the kitchen door. "Why? Has it made you fall head over heels for me all over again?"

"No."

Gabriel pouted.

Sam set the flowers off to the side and made his way toward Gabriel. He leaned down to peck him on the cheek and grinned, and said, "But I appreciate the sentiment, even if I hate holidays." Another kiss, on the mouth.

Gabriel tugged him through the doorway by the shirt collar, steering him to the dining table. He made Sam sit down. "You wait, and after we eat dinner, I'm gonna show you what Valentine's Day is all about." He crossed his arms. "I'm a true romantic, after all."

"Right. A true romantic—says the guy who gave me a glitter bomb for my birthday and then mysteriously vanished for the rest of the day while _I_ had to clean up the entire living room." Sam shook his head. "I _still_ find sparkles in my clothes sometimes."

Gabriel crowed with laughter as he pulled out various pots and pans and ingredients for dinner. "Fond memories."

"You're a dick."

"You love me."

Gabriel shot Sam a flirtatious grin and wiggled his butt, stretching up for something on a higher shelf. He sighed and climbed onto the counter so he could reach. Sam rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair, and shot back, "I dunno, Gabriel. You might have to buy my affections with that cake you bought."

"About that..."

Sam frowned. "What? Did you smash it?"

Gabriel's grin widened. "I accidentally ordered it with extra raisins."

Silence.

"You're a terrible person, Gabriel. Awful. I'm leaving you, because of raisins."

Gabriel laughed.

"Whatever you say, kid."


	9. Sam x Kevin: Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon: "Sam/Kevin where Sam tries to cook for Kevin because he hasn't been eating well lately but ends up burning everything and there's cuteness and bunker and maybe takeout and definitely kisses"  
> Only moderately followed the prompt.

Sam looked down at the frying pan in frustration. His plans for a balanced, plentiful breakfast certainly weren't turning out well. He poked at bits of egg stuck to the pan, as they curled and crackled, browning a little too quickly. Shit. He used the spatula to scrape the overly firm and somewhat blackened eggs into a bowl, and turned off the heat, reaching for the other pan.

Less burnt, but still pretty crispy around the sides, the vegan sausage Sam had found at a nearby co-op actually didn't smell too bad. They smoked a lot as he rolled them around, but didn't seem to poor off. He decided they were done, though, just to be on the safe side, and plopped them onto the plate as well.

What else...? Oh. Toast. It had already popped up, and when he plucked it from the toaster he realized the bread had gone cold and stiff. He sighed. Good enough.

"Kevin?" Sam picked up the plate and stuck his head out of the kitchen.

Kevin sat dozing at the table, head rested on his folded arms. Sam smiled. He walked over to the table, setting the plate down carefully, and spoke soft: "Kevin, are you sleeping?"

"No." Kevin peeked at him from behind his bangs—he needed a haircut.

"Oh, okay." Sam grinned. He sat down across from Kevin and pushed the plate toward him. "It's kind of overdone but... I don't think it looks completely awful." He shrugged. "Probably better than ramen and cold hot dogs, though."

Kevin snorted. "Definitely better." He straightened up and poked at the food curiously. He certainly looked interested, despite the very dark brown patches on the eggs. When he took a bite, he half-grimaced. "Not completely terrible." He laughed. "But not great."

"I'm a terrible cook. There's a reason Dean does all that." Sam shook his head, rueful. He leaned his elbows against the tabletop and caught Kevin's eye. "As long as I don't poison you, I think I'm good."

A moment of surprise, and a huff of laughter. Kevin chewed on his eggs and pretended to be very thoughtful before finally replying with, "Not even _you_ are that bad of a cook."

"I wouldn't be so sure."

They smiled at each other.

Sam averted his gaze and cleared his throat. Focused on the wood grain of the table. There was a nice little whorl just beside his left arm, and it looked very lovely with the rest of the wood... He realized Kevin was saying something. Looked up. "Did you say something?"

"I said," Kevin smirked. "That you're really bad at flirting."

"Oh—wait, what?" Sam's face creased, and he blushed. "I am not!"

Kevin just leveled this _look_ on him—raised eyebrows and barely-there smirk.

"Okay, maybe I am kind bad with the whole flirting thing, but, give me some credit." Sam beamed at Kevin. "I did kinda grow up in a car."

"I guess." Kevin's hand drifted a little away from his plate... Nearer to Sam's fingertips. His eyes narrowed with his smile, like he had thought of some wonderful joke, but all he said was, "I'll cut you some slack."

Their fingers brushed.

Sam ducked his head. But he took Kevin's hand in his own, lacing their fingers together as best he could. Kevin's hand was so tiny, though. And soft. Sam flushed deeper and let himself droop until his forehead touched the tabletop as he grinned to himself. "I feel like a teenager. Is teenager-dom contagious? Am I catching your adolescence?"

Kevin kicked him under the table. "I'm not contagious!"

Sam just laughed. He kissed Kevin's knuckles and said nothing.


	10. Samifer fluff (?) Weird guy with a bird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uh, got a request a bit ago about samifer. never knew what to do about that but here is something with not much of a point, and not really finished...... some kind of human au as far as lucifer goes :P Probably Sam and Charlie in college together chattin about earlier days. Lucifer was probably like.... a biker..... or smth lol

"Did I ever tell you about that guy I dated who had that pet parrot that could only say things like 'Repent your sins' and 'You will burn in Hell'?" Sam flipped a page in his book, and looked up at Charlie. "It was pretty weird."

She frowned, forehead creasing as she considered. "I don't think so. That's really weird, though." She crossed her arms, and gave Sam a grin. "You should tell me about it."

Sam looked back down at his book, mouth twisting. "Oh, well." He laughed, under his breath. "There's not much to it, other than that. Weird white parrot, or cockatoo or something, and all it could say was crap like that about repentance and Hell and sinning." He sighed. "Not to mention, the guy himself was kind of a weirdo."

"Oh yeah?"

He smiled. His nose wrinkled as he said, "Yeah, had really spiky blond hair, which wasn't too weird except he had a Jesus fish tattooed on the side of his neck, and... a really _ripped_ picture of Satan on his back with hellfire around it." He took a deep breath, and let out a little hum. "I think he had some issues."

Charlie made a face. "Yeah, sounds like it."

"He was attractive from the front, at least. His name was Lucifer, though. Like I said—issues."

* * *

The bird wasn't white, not quite. It was a salmon-crested cockatoo, a chalky shade of pale pink with a splash of orange along the crest. Whenever Sam walked in the door it made loud clicking noises and flapped its wings. Sometimes it hissed, if he walked near its cage. The way it looked at Sam often made him feel uneasy, so he avoided it, and spent most of his time in the confines of the bedroom. Still, the bird's eerie imitations filtered through the door—it could mimic the sound of Lucifer's voice almost perfectly, sometimes shouting "Shut up, Morningstar!" and sometimes singing, sometimes even saying Sam's name. Not a greeting, so much as a threat—he'd walked into the living room to be met with a loud "Sam!" and a hiss more than once.

It once combined phrases and interrupted a conversation to say, "Shut up, Sam!"

He avoided it almost completely after that. Sometimes, he insisted that Lucifer come to his house rather than the other way around, just to stay away from Morningstar the hostile cockatoo.

* * *

"Your tattoo of the Devil looks nice today." Sam sat astride Lucifer's back, because apparently that was the best way to give a massage. Maybe Lucifer liked the weight on his lower back, or maybe he got off on it. Sam didn't care much, either way. He dug the heels of palms into Lucifer's shoulders. "Did you get it touched up?"

Lucifer grunted, but eventually he let out a curt, "Yeah." He cracked an eye open to glance at Sam. "Darker outlines."

With a nod, Sam continued to rub Lucifer's back. Lucifer closed his eye again, head against his pillow, and Sam resettled his weight somewhat lower. Better to dig into Lucifer's sides. He worked his way around the tattoo, careful not to press against any tender spots around the edges. Through the door, he could hear Morningstar chattering away, peppering its vocalizations with swear words. Sam snorted.

"Bird's got a worse mouth than you." He wrinkled his nose.

Lucifer sighed, and shifted beneath Sam. "She loves cursing."

"Hm," Sam scooted down more, so he could get his hands on the small of Lucifer's back, and around his hips. He felt amateurish, with no idea what he was actually meant to do, but Lucifer seemed to enjoy the attempt at massage work anyway—he made a soft, contented noise in the back of his throat. Sam smiled to himself, and ducked his head. He didn't quite know what to do, so he kept on with the same sort of pattern. Flat palms, digging knuckles, prodding thumbs. He figured an attempt was better than nothing.

Lucifer seemed to agree.

Though he interrupted, muttering, "Lemme turn over, babe."

Sam got up a little higher on his knees, so Lucifer could roll onto his back below him. He settled on Lucifer's stomach. "No more poking?" He smiled, though his nostrils furled.

"Mm, not right now." Lucifer reached for Sam, fingers warm and long enough to encircle Sam's narrow wrists with space to spare. He tugged Sam closer, down for a kiss. Sam pecked his cheek, and got a deep kiss in return—Lucifer moved one hand to the back of his head, twining his fingers in Sam's hair. Sam sighed against Lucifer's mouth.

From the other room, Morningstar shrieked. Sam flinched, and Lucifer rolled his eyes. "Just... ignore it."

"I can _try_." Sam rubbed his nose, slumping down against Lucifer's chest, legs stretched out and almost reaching the end of the bed.

Lucifer trailed his hands up and down Sam's bare back, fingers brushing lightly against his skin and raising goosebumps as far as the base of his skull. Sam lazed. Closed his eyes and rested his head against Lucifer's collar, breathing deeply. The whole house smelled of vanilla, most days, but the bedroom especially. Probably from the electric air fresheners just about everywhere. Maybe to mask the smell of dust, smoke, and musty feathers.

As they lay there, Lucifer continued to run his hands (cold as hell) over Sam's sides and back, firmer the more time passed. He only stopped when Morningstar shouted something particularly violently. (Especially if it was the phrase "Fallen from Grace!")


End file.
